We'll Dance Where the Letters Fall
by JustSayNoToPants
Summary: A collection of drabbles, with a range of themes. AkuRoku.
1. Aftermath

A/N: I have started a new obsession, basically just trying to keep myself sane through final assignments and exams. (Read: Procrastination is a bitch)

Warnings: Fluffy descriptions, mentions of illness, slight mention of sexy goings-on, etc.

Aftermath

His bare feet were cold as they stepped in the wet grass, the hems of his jeans soaked through and heavy. He raised his arms over his head and stretched hard, chest out and chin up. His straining fingers brushed leaves, which rained down like stars in the sunlight, a galaxy sprinkled in honey blond hair. An intake of breath, barely heard, made Roxas turn with a smirk pulling at his lips. He lifted a golden brow, teasingly, questioningly - but all Axel could see was the sunshine filtering through the clouds and into that hair, lighting it up like a halo around the boy's head, water droplets shimmering. "Axel, if you don't shut your mouth, the rain's going to fall again and you'll be drowned like a turkey on Thanksgiving." Roxas' voice was low, dry, sarcastic; it echoed through the air and made the moisture glisten. Against the green of the foliage surrounding them, with the yellow sunlight bursting through gray clouds and peek-a-boos of blue sky, Roxas looked like a god.

Albeit a god wearing jeans and a plain white shirt, but a god none the less.

Axel tried to smile - he would swear he did - but it was weak, a lift of the corners of his lips before dissipating again. He was in awe, struck still by the ephemeral vision of such a beautiful boy standing in the clearing after the rain.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and it mattered not to Axel whether it was the storm that was leaving or another coming. He was still, not wanting to enter the scene lest he destroy it with his tampering, his mere presence.

Roxas turned again, his lips curling upward and lifting his face towards the sunlight, warming his skin in the glory of nature. Axel's skin itched, he wanted, he _wanted_ that sun kissed skin under his own pale torso; wanted his hands in that hair, those eyes trained on his own and half shut and _begging_ for him. He wanted those full lips parting, breath coming hard and chest heaving and he _wanted_, he _needed_...

"Ax, if you don't stop staring, I'm going to think you're going mushy on me. After a storm really isn't _that_ picturesque."

_'Yes, yes it is, Roxas, oh, God, Rox, what you do to me...Don't deserve you, not like this, not looking like a god in the sunlight, not ever, not good enough...Rox, Roxas, mine, mine, always always __**always**__...'_ Axel's thoughts tangled and tripped over themselves, his eyes roving the blond's body, focusing on the strip of skin peeking out as he raised his arms above his head again, stretched again, not noticing him smirking again...

Axel was too far gone to notice the blond walking slowly towards him, he immersed himself in the way his hips moved, the way the damp white shirt clung to his taut stomach and strong shoulders and gave the barest hint to tight, pink nipples. The redhead snapped his head up to look in Roxas' eyes as the blond lay muscled arms across his shoulders, one hand against the back of his neck and one in his hair. Axel pulled his legs up, cradling the blond on his knees, straddled over Axel's legs, both on the wet, cool grass.

Axel fell into those blue eyes and drowned; he died a million deaths in that cerulean embrace and never once felt it, never once wanted out, because to die in Roxas was to be close to him, closer than ever...

"Axel. What the hell are you doing?" Roxas asked, brows beginning to furrow, a grimace forming on such a lovely face. Axel buried his face into the blond's sternum, arms laced around his waist and pulling, squeezing Roxas' body into his own.

_'Maybe if I hold tight enough, we can become one person, and I'll never have to worry about leaving.' _Roxas stroked his hair, ignoring the strands that slowly slid out and the patches of bare scalp.

"Don't look at me like that, Rox. I don't think I can handle it," Axel whispered against his chest, lips twitching forward and kissing over and over, the t-shirt fabric the only thing between his lips and tanned skin. Roxas laid his cheek atop Axel's head, and the redhead immediately started kissing the thick column of his throat, his defined collarbones.

Roxas pulled away, sitting on the redhead's raised knees and just staring. Slowly, he touched the other's sharp chin and angular cheekbones, traced dark purple tattoos and the delicate skin of his eyelids. That face he'd already memorized had been whittled away, until he was a specter, skin stretched tight against the bone. But that pale skin seemed translucent under the bright, after-storm sunlight, seemed to shimmer and shift in the light until the redhead was glowing, an earth-bound angel; it gave him a beauty that he had lost since the treatment started.

The green grass around them was littered with impossibly red strands, the difference in colour making it impossible not to notice. Sinewy, sun-loved hands traveled to Axel's thin, pale chest; his dark t-shirt, once fitted to a leanly muscled torso, now fell in folds around the slip of a man. Roxas could feel his ribs jutting sharply under his skin, and the blond wondered how the other's skin didn't split and bleed. He brushed his nose along the redhead's, lightly brushed his lips against the other's pale, chapped mouth.

Axel caught his lips and cupped the blond's jaw with thin, cool hands. The redhead _worshipped_ him, kissing him so tenderly and softly the blond thought he would break down and cry. Slowly, Roxas pushed Axel into the damp grass, deepening the kiss, pressing his strong body against the other's thin, breakable one.

Soft, gentle movements turned into something possessive and desperate and so terribly beautiful. Bony fingers fisted in white fabric, tendons in skinny wrists stood out from clenching and holding on like life depended on it. Roxas swallowed the lump in his throat that promised to choke tears out of him.

And there, in the aftermath of the storm, with the threat of illness and life and death over their heads, they reached out and found one another again.


	2. Bohemian

Second installment!

Warnings: Non-graphic sexings, sexy gypsies running around, inaccurate history, problems with commitment, and more fluff.

A/N: FIRST OFF, when I hear 'bohemian', I immediately think of gypsies. And when I think of gypsies, I immediately think of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Soldier!Roxas, gypsy!Axel, and the general idea of the story is mostly based off of tHoND, and I don't even care about it. SECONDLY, I can't sleep and I'm sick of revising for Psych, so I decided to finish this. I don't particularly like it, but I've decided to give it to the internets for the sole purpose of not messing with it anymore. Enjoy 3

He saw him for the first time while doing his rounds of the city. The man had the skin colouring to warrant him as Romani, but everything else was wrong. Too tall, too thin, too _colourful_. His hair, pulled back by faded purple scarves - no doubt a cheap vegetable dye - was shockingly red and so messy that the only viable reason behind it would have been shoving him up against a wall and fucking him sloppy. Cat green eyes were offset by small black marks on his cheeks; framed by thick, red lashes and lined with kohl. They held a constant mischievous glimmer, his eyebrows short and coyly arched.

He watched the gypsies in the streets, not intervening quite yet. The girls danced barefoot, dull coins woven in to their faded, worn clothing. They were promiscuous, the way they moved, the way they caught the men's eyes and smiled; but they weren't what Roxas had eyes for. The red haired man spouted fire from his mouth, he held it in his hands and threw it in the air, eyes reflecting the flames in green. Roxas, though his face was schooled into the normal, expressionless state, was entranced. He followed the man's thin limbs, watched him dance with the fire in a state of joy that Roxas never thought he could reach himself.

The dance ended, the fire was extinguished, and Roxas felt himself moving before he could consciously make the decision. The group of gypsies saw him coming from a mile away and scattered like the beads of a broken necklace; Roxas' eyes followed that beacon of red, obscured by the head scarves, until it disappeared around a corner. Roxas felt his chest tightening, ignored the urge to give chase and catch that man and pull that thin torso into his arms-ignore it, _ignore_ it, it'll go away.

And when it didn't, Roxas _made_ himself forget it by going to the brothel and fucking his thoughts away and trying to convince himself that the prostitute's green eyes weren't the reason he came so early.

**Stop**. _Fast forward_. Play.

Roxas walked quickly, shoes slapping the cobblestone streets. The moon shone bright in the sky, lighting his way when he took off from the main streets, into the areas with no light and less protection. His stature looked even smaller when he took off his uniform, and he'd catch hell if someone were to find out that he was spending his one day away from the army doing _this_, but he didn't care.

Roxas had spent the last of the four months that had passed trying to find the red haired man who spat fire. The first three months went without even a spot of red on his peripheral vision, but he'd cornered a lanky blond boy with an outlandish hairstyle and threatened him until he told Roxas where he could find the redhead. Since that day, he'd found out the man's haunts, his home, everything. Roxas had followed him everyday, biding his time, waiting until he could - well, he wasn't actually sure what he was going to do. But he was going to do it.

The blond could hear the raucous cheering from a few streets away, and the sounds of nightlife made him walk faster towards his target. When he could finally see the flashing, dancing glow of fire, he had to force himself not to run; and then nearly stopped dead in his tracks when he turned the corner.

There, in the middle of the street, was his redhead. His skin was liquid, molten in the light of the fire; it shimmered with oil and sweat and the sharp angles of his frame. He swung fire in tight circles, moving with it in a flawless choreography, a master and his barely tamed beast. The gold sewn into his pants flashed in the light, seeming brighter than it would in the day. His chest was bare and hard and lean, muscles standing out in heavy contrast with the fire lit night.

Roxas pulled his cap further down over his face, a precaution against being recognized, and leaned against a dirty stone wall. He watched and watched and watched the man with his fire, a sharp grin on his face while he moved in the night. When the fire was extinguished, and the dancing girls went home, Roxas followed. He followed like he always had, right back to the beautiful redhead's home. The blond waited outside the building, body shivering _'from the cool air'_, he tried to tell himself; he agonized over whether to go into the building or not.

Finally, Roxas ducked into the low doorway, into the crumbling building that smelled like mildew and rust. He picked his way through the detritus, stubbing his toe and biting back a curse, and cautiously pulled back a rotting curtain. He peeked into the dark room, searching for the fire breather, and deemed it empty, before he was roughly pushed against a wall. He felt the cold of the flat of a blade against his neck, his attacker's breath hot in his hair.

"Well, little soldier, it seems you've finally decided to make your move." Roxas completely froze, breath stuttering in his nose.

"Why have you been following me?" The man demanded, pressing his body further against Roxas' in attempt to tighten his hold, but he only succeeded in creating a warmth low in the blond's belly.

"I-" Roxas stopped himself, cutting off a moan.

"Oh, that's cute. C'mon, sweetheart, I know you can force it out," the man all but purred in his ear, mocking him in a low timbre that sent shivers down his skin, making him break out in goose bumps.

"I just-I wanted-Just tell me your name," Roxas forced the words out through teeth gritted hard enough to offset the arousal in his voice. He could feel the redhead's body freeze, stopped dead by the statement.

"My name. You've been following me for a month, and you want my name." Roxas could taste the skepticism dripping from his voice, but he wanted to taste it directly from his mouth. Before he could stop himself, he pressed himself backward, further into the hard, thin body behind him.

"Yes." The word was barely heard, a tiny sigh falling from Roxas' lips and nearly blending into the background noise. Suddenly, his back was being slammed into the wall and he was having the breath thoroughly sucked out of him.

The redhead's lips were chapped, and he tasted like cheap spirits and lamp oil and fire. Roxas' back arched into his lean chest and the redhead _whimpered_, fingers scrabbling over the blond's back while they tried to crawl into each other's skin.

Roxas broke the kiss, his lips pulsating from the force of it, and the redhead's mouth descended upon his neck. Roxas wrapped his fingers in the hair at the base of the redhead's neck, for once void of scarves of any colour, and shuddered against the taller man.

"You-your _name_," Roxas moaned, barely able to choke out the words due to the tongue in the hollow behind his ear and the lips enclosing around his earlobe. A low chuckle came from deep in the redhead's throat, a long nose brushing the shell of his ear as a precursor to the light kiss placed there.

"Axel," he murmured, warm breath ghosting along the side of his face before he was hunching down and biting into Roxas' collarbone, causing him to cry out and let Axel's thigh between his own legs, pressed warm against the aching fork in his legs.

"'M Roxas," the blond mumbled, looking down to watch long, thin fingers fumble to untie his trousers.

"Hi, Roxas." The whisper was breathless, a husky, small sound floating on the air until Roxas' ears were filled with the sound of blood pumping in his ears because those lips had descended on his mouth and those hands were slipping into trousers that had _finally_ been opened.

Axel dropped to his knees, fingers frantically pulling at Roxas' pants, yanking them to his knees and taking the other into his mouth. Roxas hands relaxed, smoothing through red strands as he fought against thrusting his hips up and into that mouth.

"Hi, Axel."

**Pause****. **

Roxas woke to a mouth full of red hair and a naked torso pressed against his own. He blinked, eyes itchy and straining to see past the weak ray of sunlight doing it's best to blind him. Axel was on his side, curling into the blond with his head pillowed on Roxas' collarbone. Roxas was laying on one of Axel's arms - which wasn't helping the slight burn that spiked whenever he shifted - and the redhead's other arm wound tightly around his waist.

The second though that ran through his mind once his mind cleared, right after _'Axel's so beautiful when he's asleep in the sunlight on top of me,'_ was a series of self-directed expletives. He hadn't meant to bed the gorgeous man, only wanted to speak to him, to understand just _why_ he couldn't get the man out of his mind. Now, he had ruined any chance to find out, and would be spending the rest of his life tugging and pulling and squeezing his eyes shut to think of Axel's lovely, lean body.

He bit his lip, holding back the self hatred, the bitter tears, while he tried to untangle himself from the warm body beside him. He didn't want to wake the redhead, to face the rejection first-hand. So, barely repressing whimpers of lost contact and berating himself for it, he pulled himself from the bed, shoved his sore limbs into his plain clothes and scurried out the door.

Axel woke just as Roxas' side of the bed had cooled down and punched the wall so hard his knuckles split, if only to tell himself that his eyes were tearing up from the pain.

_Play__._

Roxas' head cracked against the wall as Axel shoved him, moving to press his body chest to chest with the blond's. Lips caught, trying to swallow each other's breath, thin fingers shaking and fumbling with the catches on Roxas' soldier uniform. Roxas' thigh slid between Axel's legs, rubbed into his groin, making Axel moan and bite Roxas' jaw and it had been _months_ since the last time-

_**Fast forward.**_

**Stop****.**

Roxas could feel it creeping in, that constant fear of rejection. He removed himself, as always, from Axel's side, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in shaking hands. He finally stood, naked, searching for clothes that had been thrown about the room in a fit of passion the night before. A low sigh from the general direction of the bed caught his attention.

"You would've thought that after a couple of years of this you would've figure out that I want you to stay," Axel murmured quietly, green eyes sleepy and half lidded and staring at him. Roxas stared back, and Axel lay there, arms spread, chest bare, looking like the most beautiful thing Roxas had ever seen in the pale morning light.

Needless to say, Roxas went back to the bed.


	3. Celestial

**Title:** Celestial.

**Pairing:** Axel/Roxas

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer:** I dun own it.

**Warnings**: Slightly graphic sexings, ridiculous amounts of drug abuse, prostitution, character death. This mafucka's angsty.

**A/N:** I don't like doing this to my boys, I like it when they have happy endings. This kind of came out of left field. Back to reading articles about climate change, now. Enjoy!

Roxas was busy coughing up sweet opium smoke when Axel walked into the room. Maybe it was just the smog from the various drugs, or the cocktail that was chugging through his veins and churning up his brain; but the first thing he thought when he'd saw the skinny redhead saunter into the room was _pretty_.

He'd never thought a boy looked pretty before, much less _Axel_ of all people. He was all bones and papery-pale skin and wild red hair, dark smudges under his eyes from getting sauced on coke and fucking for eight hours straight. His mouth was always dry and red around the edges - a hazard of sucking cock for money - and he was covered in bruises, his walking stiff from the discomfort of having a steady stream of men to pay the price and fuck him into the mattress (or wall or floor or whatever).

However, in that dark, smokey room, Axel's pale skin was alabaster; glowing rather than sallow. He fluttered his big, green bedroom eyes and purred in other boys' ears, but Roxas' second thought after watching him walk in was _mine_. Axel made his way through the room, stick-thin legs climbing over people who were smoking chronic and doing lines off the floor. When he was close enough, Roxas reached out and pulled him into his lap.

"Mm, well hello there," Axel murmured into his hair, smelling like soap and deodorant. Roxas buried his face into Axel's neck and collarbone.

"You don't even know my name, do you?" He asked, words slurring together and stroking the redhead's side possessively, bonelessly from the drugs in his system.

"Not really. I've seen you around, though," Axel muttered into his ear, seducing, fake. Roxas sucked in the smell of him, foggy brain realizing that he couldn't have fucked anyone yet, or else he wouldn't smell that _clean_.

"You're beautiful." Roxas tripped over the words he didn't ask to come out of his mouth. Axel laughed.

"You're high as fuck, dude," he said, eyes glimmering in something other than the raw sex appeal he exuded, something like amusement-but-not-quite. Roxas' drug addled mind was trying to chug through thoughts and pull a string of words together.

"You're a god. A goddamn celestial _being_." The amusement-but-not-quite fell out of his eyes, leaving him shielded, green eyes turning to stone walls and Roxas didn't know what he'd said, but it was clearly the wrong thing.

"You're fucked." His voice lost it's resonance, sounding rough, sounding _real_, and Roxas wanted to attach his lips to Axel's mouth and _devour_ that voice.

"I'd worship you if you let me," he whispered, hands tightening on that thin torso and blinking rapidly, trying to clear his tunnel vision. It was too much, his gaze centered on Axel and that was all he could fucking _see_. The coy looks were back, lips curling at the corners and one eyebrow raised, just slightly.

"I can let you for a price," Axel's breath was hot on his face, smelled like mouth wash and Mexican spices. Suddenly shaking hands gripped Axel's cropped leather jacket, fisting the tough material tightly.

"Not-not like that -" Before the blond could even say another word, Axel had slipped through his fingers, off to proposition the others in the basement of the club. Roxas stared until someone passed him a fifty and lead him off to the bathroom. Nausea rose in his stomach as he reached for another opium hit, he could taste the bile in the back of his throat as the smoke rushed into his lungs.

All he could think about was that wall in those green eyes, and the glimmer of something-just-for-him.

Roxas left before he had to sit through Axel finding another person to fuck in the bathroom. He could already hear the moans of the first one.

~x~

The next morning-day-evening, when Roxas finally deigns it time to wake up, he laughed at the image of Axel in his head. He chuckled grimly, thinking about how fucked he would have had to be to want to have _that_ particular scuzzy piece of meat.

_'Besides, I'm fucking straight.' _He told-convinced-forcedhimselftobelieve.

Roxas giggled to himself and ran around dancing in the ash-rain, the sky alight with blue and purple flames. He ran through the literal cement jungle, concrete and steel twisting until they became vines and leaves and he could hear the giant robot panther crashing through it in the distance, must have found something to hunt.

It wasn't until he saw an ethereal figure, thin and pale and dancing through the steel leaves, that Roxas decided that maybe LSD was a terrible idea that night. Nevertheless, his hands clamped down on bony hips and he pulled that skinny body into his own, touching red hair with tentative, shaking fingers. One of Axel's thin eyebrows rose, lips curling into a smirk and eyes glittering in that amused-but-not-quite-just-for-Roxas look.

"Still thinking about me, hey?" Axel asked, the seductive purr falling by the wayside in favor of a slightly sarcastic, low tone. Roxas buried his face in the taller boy's chest, his leather jacket unzipped and the soft cotton of the t-shirt rubbing his cheek. Roxas inhaled hard, the scent of laundry detergent and soap and clean surrounding him.

"You still smell good even when you're not here," Roxas mumbled, wrapping his arms around Axel's waist. The chest under his cheek seemed to heave with laughter.

"What do you mean, when I'm not here? What would you be holding on to if I wasn't here?" His voice, rough with laughter and completely missing any pretense of sexual satisfaction was what made Roxas start. He'd never heard Axel talk in this voice, and though he was high as a kite in the middle of a fucking hurricane, he'd never be able to imagine a voice like that coming out of Axel's mouth.

This was the second time in the evening when Roxas decided that taking that blotter was the worst idea he'd had in a long time. He pulled away from the redhead like he'd been stung, holding his arms to his chest as if they had a mind of their own and would twine around the redhead's neck again.

"What, you're gonna be shy now?" Axel came closer, teasing, and Roxas could pick out the engorged veins in his eyes, could smell the weed on his breath. His body moved of it's own accord, pulled Axel against him by his belt buckle, tongue in his mouth and hands halfway down his pants.

And Axel...he acquiesced. He ran long, thin hands into wild blond hair, arched his worn body into the other's, and didn't pull away. The shining metal leaves glittered in triumph, and Roxas could hear the jaguar purring off in the distance.

That is, for a moment. After the moment, that glorious, glimmering hiccup in time, Axel pulled away.

"You have to pay for that, you know," Axel murmured against Roxas' kiss-red mouth, indicating the hands that had made short work of clothing and fingers that were wrapped around Axel's half hard cock.

"I-I don't-" Roxas tripped hard on his words, the drugs and arousal working together to make his tongue heavy; and Axel was pulling away, gently pushing the blond's body. And Roxas, well, he could have none of that.

"Stop! Just-just let me find words," he spat, squeezing the other boy in his hand, eliciting soft mewls and intakes of breath. Axel just nodded, head falling forward onto Roxas shoulder. The blond wasted no time nuzzling into the warm flesh of his neck, trying to string together words that evaded him the moment they made themselves present.

"I don't just want _this_," he said slowly, emphasizing what he meant with another tight squeeze, "I want _all _of you. I want to wake up beside you, and I want to make you laugh, and I want that dead look in your eyes to go away." Roxas pulled his hands out of the redhead's pants and wrapped his arms around that malnourished body, pulling him close, so close, trying to slip into his skin. Axel pressed his nose into dry blond hair, and held the shaking blond until the arms around him loosened. The redhead jerked, pulling himself out of his arms.

"One day, Rox, maybe. But tonight I need to work, and you need to do whatever it is you do." Roxas heart sank as he watched him walk off, felt his heart and spirit and mind crack and fall away with every step the other took.

It wasn't until three lines and a few huffs later that Roxas realized he hadn't told Axel his name.

~x~

Axel's body was sore when he crawled back to the place he was crashing at. It wasn't much, a dirty mattress on the floor beside the window with a few threadbare blankets piled on top. It was somewhere to lay his head, though; and it meant that he didn't get woken up three hours into his sleep to get thrown out by whoever had bought him. He was even allowed to use the shower, to wash away the come and sweat and _use_ accumulated over the night.

In the dim morning light, dark and soupy as it was, Axel could see something was off. He got closer to his area, stepping over unwashed bodies on similar mattresses, and recognized that familiar head of honey blond hair.

"Rox," he breathed, a bare exhale, the slightest upturn to the corners of his lips. His distant star, his everything and nothing. He sank to abused, bruised knees; jeans torn and bloody from being forced down onto them for so many days-weeks-months. The blond was face down on his flat pillow, no doubt drooling, and Axel's mouth pulled, smile widening.

He reached out, caressed flaxen strands with slightly shaking hands - it took him a few passes to figure out that something was wrong. His head was cold, scalp slightly clammy, arms far too stiff on the mattress.

Axel bit his bottom lip until blood dripped down his chin, joined by tears as he moved the body onto it's back.

Axel stroked the waxy, cold skin with callused fingertips, rolled them over his eyelids and mouth. He pressed his lips against the blond's forehead, gathered that small, perfect body into his arms and lay down with him. One time, the first and last, that he would ever lay with the boy he loved enough to drop out of school and fall into prostitution and travel the country to find him over a fucking _dream_. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"One day, Rox. One of these times, we'll get it right."


	4. Dream

**Title:** Dream

**Pairing:** Axel x Roxas

**Rating:** M

**Warnings:** Implied torture, implied character death, foul language, Axel being cavalier about things he shouldn't be.

**A/N:** I seem to be in a rather sadistic mindset, I don't know where all of these upsetting fics are coming from. Like I've said before, I don't like being mean to my boys. On a happier note, this one-shot is dedicated to **Ozium Actys**, for her lovely messages of unbelievable (and slightly misplaced) praise. Thank you so much, darling, and there should be more on the way, and soon; I'm finished with school for the year and have a lot of writing to catch up on! I hope you enjoy *hearts*

* * *

Axel shivered, his shoulders stretched and uncomfortable on the cement. The steel encircling his wrists bit in, rubbed until his skin turned red and raw and blood slowly trickled to his elbows. He couldn't see, and nor could he feel the tell-tale brush of a fabric blindfold; where ever he was had to be this dark.

His tongue slipped from between his lips to wet his chapped mouth. His head pounded, the after effects of a heavy blow or a drug slipped into his drink - he couldn't remember.

"_No point in getting upset_," he thought to himself, trying to wiggle into a more comfortable position and finding his legs tied to something stationary, solid. "_Not much getting upset will do, at this point._" Despite his calm inner voice, he could feel his heart beating faster, feel panic and anger and confusion congealing to form a lump in his throat. He swallowed it, shaking his head to rid his eyes of any tears it brought forth and wincing when it caused a sharp jolt of pain behind his eyes.

It was only a matter of time before the Organization realized he was selling their information to the people trying to flush them out. This was just karma coming to bite him in the ass.

_"Or the Superior,"_ he supposed, his heart beating fast and still struggling slightly against his very sturdy restraints.

Axel, Number VIII, the Organization's best liar, cheater, and information-finder - all technical terms - had been wheeling the people he worked for since the beginning and had finally been found out.

The red head lay there for hours, waited and waited for someone to come kick the shit out of him - until he was no longer scared of the inevitable, just bored out of his mind. He absent-mindedly picked at his fingernails, at the handcuffs, at the blood drying on his skin; he started squirming when his muscles started cramping, screaming at him to stretch, pick a different position, fucking _anything_.

Finally, Axel's attention was drawn to the sound of a door shutting and a light turning on in another room, making him squint. There was shuffling, clothes rustling - but no talking.

_"If this clown came in here for anything that doesn't have to do with me, I'm gonna fucking scream."_ The dim light let Axel see that he was, indeed, in the basement of the Organization; his legs were chained to a thick copper pipe, while his hands were cuffed to a ring in the cement floor. He recognized the room as the 'interrogation' room, looking over to see the one-way glass - on the other side of which being where the recordings were listened to, where the torture would be watched. Axel fidgeted, waiting for whoever it was to come in and let him have it.

_"I wonder who it'll be? I sure as hell hope it won't be Larxene, I could do without being electrocuted today. I doubt it will be, she's always partnered with Marluxia, anyways; and he's the resident assassin. Why they'd be sent down here to fuck with me would be far beyond my understanding. Probably not Xigbar - for all of his big talk, torture makes him queasy. I doubt it'd be Demyx, either, they know how much of a slacker that kid is. He'd probably bring ketchup to splatter on his clothes and a deck of cards. Oh, god, what if they send Vexen? He'll inject me with shit and record the observations on that stupid fucking clipboard and then burn my face off with acid. I do __**not**__ want it to be Vexen." _Axel was still flipping through his mental catalogue and going through the pros and cons of Lexaeus being sent to deal with him with the light went on and temporarily blinded him. He made a small noise of displeasure, squeezing his eyes shut to shield them from light that made pain bloom in the back of his head.

"Well, Axel, look at this. Seems like all your shit finally caught up to you." Axel froze when he heard the voice. It was a voice he knew all too well, a voice that yelled at him for using up the toilet paper and cheered him on when he was fighting the final boss in video games and whispered declarations of love with husky, sleep-rough vowels. His eyes flew open to take in the artistically swept hair, the pinched mouth, the blue eyes set wide in his face that was twisted into a deep scowl.

"Rox." His voice croaked when he said it, voice unused and throat dry from a lack of water and breathing in the dust in the room.

"Yeah, it's me, douche bag." Roxas turned his face away from the red head, stretched across dirty, uneven pavement and looking at him like he was the messiah. He started picking through the duffle at his feet, crouched down and refusing to look the other in the eye.

"Aw, man, Rox, you fucking came! I can't believe this, babe, I owe you so hard!" Axel's face had split into a grin, lips cracking in the centre and dripping blood into his mouth. And Roxas -

Roxas stood up, shaking his head, holding the pistol that he'd taken out of the duffle. Axel _knew_ that gun; he'd seen it on many occasions, watched the blond clean the barrel lovingly.

Roxas only carried that gun when he meant to use it; it was a morbid, violent promise. Axel's dry mouth went impossibly drier.

"Baby, what are you doing with that?" Axel saw dancing spots in his vision when Roxas slammed the butt of the pistol into the crown of his head, felt blood well up and pour into his hair. Quickly, Roxas shot the lock keeping his legs chained and the handcuffs above his head. The shots echoed through the room, so loud that he almost didn't register the pain in his hand. When Axel pulled his hands into his dazed eyesight, he saw that one of the bullets had grazed his thumb, taking a chuck of flesh and bone with it.

"Hey, bastard, look what you-" Axel was cut off, letting out a small yelp of pain as Roxas gripped the hair at the back of his neck and dragged him to his knees.

"Axel." He said it with a tone of finality, cold and clipped and almost broken. "All of your lying has built up. The Superior is _not_ happy."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that when I woke up in the basement." The defiance of his words was countered by the softness of his voice, the air of resignation in his drooping shoulders. Roxas ran the barrel of the pistol down his face, gently drawing it over his cheekbones, caressing him lovingly with the shining, cool metal.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" His voice was quiet, dangerously so, and as Axel opened his mouth to beg, the blond thrust the muzzle of the pistol into his mouth. It hit hard against his teeth, pushed against the back of his throat, tasted acrid on his tongue. The force pushed tears into his malachite eyes, and he looked up at Roxas as the other began to pump the gun between bleeding lips.

Blood dripped into Axel's eyes, but he was sure he saw the blond shoot a glance to the one-way glass.

_"A show. He's putting on a show, he doesn't mean it."_ But those blue eyes were drowning in sorrow, the sadness spiraled into a never-ending cerulean.

"The Organization doesn't want to have to clean up your messes anymore," Roxas said, voice deadly calm, as he pulled the gun from Axel's mouth. The red head's fingers scrabbled for purchase on the blond's thighs, fully supplicating to his partner, his friend, his lover.

"Roxas, fuck, tell me this is a joke, that it's a dream, just-"

"A dream is a wish your heart makes." Axel watched a single tear slide down Roxas' face as he pulled back the hammer.


	5. Glycerin

**Title:** Glycerin  
**Pairing:** Axel x Roxas  
**Rating:** M  
**Words:** 2,100~  
**Beta: **The lovely darthvair_65 over on LJ  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own an Axel, or a Roxas, or a 20th floor apartment.  
**Warnings: **Horror, gore, very brief mentions of sexy times between boys, character death.  
**A/N: **Happy Hallowe'en, fandom! I realize that I'm a whole two days late, but for beginning this at 4:30 in the morning on the 31st, I'd say it's pretty good. Especially considering my 8/13 day contribution was over a month late XD Thank you so so so much to my lovely Jen, who read this right before going to bed two days in a row to beta it for me, and for dealing with the windows.

Axel's had to line the windows and doorways in his home with salt and glycerin. The glycerin kept the salt line from breaking when he stumbled around in the night, drunken from lack of sleep and thirsty, face itchy from crying.

The salt kept Roxas out.

Roxas was never something Axel thought he'd be actively trying to keep out, but since he died Roxas had become a lot less pleasing to be around.

The first time, the day after Roxas' sudden death (an aneurism, they'd told him at the hospital, just a tiny little blood clot in Roxas' brain and then he was gone), Axel was crushed and hollowed out from grief and crying. He was dreaming of Roxas, of pushing inside and licking his neck and kissing the small of his back, pink lips parted and tiny moans slipping from between them, like Roxas always did at the beginning, not wanting to be too loud, still scared of his sexuality.

When he woke up, hard as a rock and ready to cry again, he realized that there were familiar hands, albeit cold hands, slithering across his body, one palm warmed by Axel's flesh, pumping him hard and fast.

Axel's eyes flew open, dead blue eyes looking up at him through dark, patchy lashes, cataracts blooming with cloudy white and pupils distended. White teeth bit at greying lips, flesh coming apart in his mouth as he smirked at Axel's astonished face.

"You look surprised, Axel. Miss me?" he asked, voice raw and torn, forcing it's way through vocal chords limp with death. This _thing_ was a mockery of Roxas' beauty, took his angles and his height and the soft, rounded curls of his hair and ruined them, smashed them into bits and set fire to the remains and there you had the thing that was currently rubbing a chaffing, clammy palm across his chest, up his neck to touch his face.

Axel broke out of his horrified daze, breaking away from Roxas, kicking out at him and connecting with something hard. He'd half expected his flailing, sleep-disoriented limbs to go through, to make the macabre mirage in front of him swirl and fall away. Instead, it furrowed it's brows and gave him a furious glare, the one that Roxas saved for him when he was well and truly _pissed off_, and disappeared. Just flickered out of existence, eyes blazing and mouth set hard.

Axel sat up, shuffled back in his bed, pressed his back to the wall. He sat there, staring around him in horror, jumping at every tiny noise, until the sun had risen enough for him to feel safe. When his feet touched the cool floor he pulled them back, face pulling, toes covered in a dark, cold substance.

He looked and saw two muddy footprints, exactly where Roxas had been standing. Axel gagged and ran for the bathroom, retching and shaking and absolutely terrified.

That night he'd come home from work armed with bottles of sweet glycerin and boxes of salt. He lined every doorway, every window ledge, hands shaking and wiping away tears with his forearms. The floor in his apartment was gritty under his sock clad feet, but he didn't care. He felt a semblance of safety, surrounded in orderly lines of white salt.

Axel slept with the window open. He ran hot, and he didn't like to wake up in twisted, sweaty sheets.

Axel woke up that night to a low whispering outside his open window, twenty stories above ground.

"Axel, let me in, baby." Roxas' voice. It was smoother than the night before, getting used to using his dead throat, the breath wasn't rattling in his lungs anymore. Axel's eyes were wide, not even remotely asleep, limbs shaking.

"Axel, c'mon, love, let me in. It's cold out here, Ax, just let me come inside." Axel shook his head quietly, shutting his eyes tight against the words, as if it would make them go away. His voice was getting louder, words getting more and more impatient. A sudden bang had Axel jolting, pulling himself upright and huddling in the corner of his bed, back against the wall.

"I _know_ you're awake in there, Axel, just let me in! Let me the fuck in, Axel, you stupid fucker, let me in right now!" Roxas was screaming now, cold, grey fists pounding at the window. Axel jumped with every word, every resounding bang against the double paned glass, every angry snarl. He could shut the window. He lived in the city, in a new complex; the windows were sound proofed against the sounds of the city. It would help, he wouldn't hear Roxas' voice.

Axel began to reach out for the window and froze in place. Closing the window would mean opening the curtain. Opening the curtain would bring him face to face with blue eyes slowly turning to milk, limpid blond hair curling around the rotting flesh of his face.

Axel couldn't force himself to look.

He spent the rest of the night curled up in his bed, wrapped up in his duvet like it could save him, listening to Roxas screaming directly outside his window.

The moment the sun peeked over the horizon, Roxas was gone. Axel leapt up, slammed and locked the window, and wrapped himself in his blanket, arms around his pillow and weeping as if his heart was breaking.

Axel slept on and off until his alarm went stumbled around the apartment, falling into the shower and rushing out the door to work. He barely made it through the day, half asleep and jumping at every noise in the office.

Axel made it home after a long day at work, slowly forcing himself up the stairs and cursing the elevator for breaking down on that particular day. He was passed by several people heading up the stairs, followed by some others, but soon he found himself alone.

His eyes darted everywhere, jumping at noises and looking around himself almost maniacally. He rolled his eyes even as he jumped, chastising himself for being so weak, so scared.

Another noise, look behind himself, all clear-

Roxas was standing at the top of the stairs.

Axel stopped dead, staring up at him. The smell reached his nostrils in a moment, and he forced back a dry heave, covering his face with his hands. The hollows of his eyes were black, skin almost yellow under the florescent lighting of the stairwell. His jeans were dark with liquid, but Axel couldn't tell if it was blood or water or liquid from decomposition. Axel's heart was pumping, beating fast, hands sweating and shaking.

"Axel," he said, and his voice echoed through the stairwell, seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "You didn't let me in." Axel swallowed, mouth dry. Roxas took a step down towards him, head tilting, cloudy eyes wide.

"I-" Axel couldn't speak. His mouth opened and closed, stepping backwards and nearly falling down the stairs.

"Are you scared of me?" Roxas asked, grinning and splitting his lips, coagulated blood dripping into his mouth and down his chin. "Come up here so I can kiss you." Axel took another step back, bumped into something cool and solid in a viscous way. He turned and stumbled back, falling against the stairs, as Roxas walked toward him on the landing.

"Don't you want your kiss?" Roxas asked, and Axel scrambled up the steps, long legs taking them two at a time, nearly mowing Roxas over on the next landing. He yelped, jumped from his outstretched hand, bolting for the door of his floor. He fought with his keys, pulling his house key from the mess of them on the keychain.

Lights flickered at the end of the hall, going out with a pop.

Axel looked up, saw Roxas standing there, eyes flashing in the dark, slowly walking forward.

Another set of lights flickered and died.

Axel's hands shook as he fought with the key, shoving it into the slot and jerking it sideways, trying to turn it. The key stuck.

Another pop, another set of lights out. Axel looked up, and Roxas was so much closer, smiling that awful, bloodstained grin and reaching for him. A maggot crawled from under his hair, climbing into his nostril, and Roxas' grim smile just widened, splitting his bottom lip completely.

The key turned. Axel fell into his apartment, slammed his door on Roxas infuriated screech, dropping his bag and grabbing for the glycerin and salt he kept on a table by the door. He poured it sloppily, Roxas banging on the door outside and shrieking.

When he finished pouring the salt, there was a final angry cry, and Roxas was gone.

Axel slumped to the floor, catching his breath, slowing his violently beating heart. He crawled to his bedroom, redoing the line of salt and glycerin at his bedroom door when he slogged through the crumbling salt, pulling his suit and tie off. He collapsed into his bed, shaking hard, curling into himself and squeezing his eyes shut.

Eventually, the terror wore off and exhaustion pulled at him, lulling him into an uneasy sleep that slowly pulled him deeper and deeper.

He was awoken in the middle of the night by harsh pounding on his window and city light filtering in from outside. He stiffened, pulling his blanket over his head, fighting not to cry and scream at himself.

When he'd fallen asleep, he forgot to shut the curtains.

Axel could hear that Roxas was screaming at him, but couldn't hear much between the bashing on the windows and the fact that the windows were soundproof. He curled around himself under the duvet, clinging to it like it would save his life, like a child hiding beneath their covers because if they can't see the monster, the monster obviously can't see them.

He jolted up when he heard the glass starting to crack from the strain. He saw a thick fissure in the glass, covered in blood and bits of greying flesh and blond hair. Roxas was directly outside the window, face screwed up in fury, mouth wide from shouting. He had blood trickling down his forehead, parts of his cheeks were sloughing off, showing his rotting teeth through the holes.

Axel whimpered, looking at Roxas' rage, watching him throw himself against the glass, bleeding and swearing and screaming his name. Roxas stopped, palms pressed against the glass, staring in with cloudy blue eyes, blood dripping into his eyelashes. He was getting worse, grey skin peeling and falling off in clumps, stomach bloated and looking ready to burst. He stared at Axel, pressed against he bloody, cracked window, with sad eyes, as if his anger had been Axel's imagination. Roxas said his name again, quietly, Axel could only see his mouth shaping it.

Roxas gently kissed the glass, eyes wide open and staring into Axel's, and then he flickered from existence. Axel sat in shock, the only sound in the suddenly silent room his ragged breathing.

Axel felt like he could cry, the lump in his throat growing, but he didn't. He sat staring at the gore dripping from the glass until the lump in his throat was displaced by a sudden gag, and he was running for the bathroom, shaking hands gripping the cold, porcelain edge of the toilet as he emptied the meager contents of his stomach. He washed his mouth out with water, walked slowly on shaky legs, grabbed the curtains with tight fists and ripped them closed, hiding the gory splatters across his window.

He collapsed into his bed, wrapped around himself and determined to fall asleep. He heard something tear, heard wet things fall to the floor, liquid draining. When he whipped around, there was Roxas, standing in the middle of the room. His bloated stomach had split, spilling rotting entrails, liquified and frothing insides across the wood floors. The smell was revolting, permeating the room immediately. Roxas walked forward slowly, sneakers sliding through his own guts and looking into Axel's wide, terrified eyes and smirking. Axel's mind went to the salt, mind racing that _no, no, he can't be in here, I lined all of the entry ways, I-_

His thoughts stuttered to an abrupt halt when he saw the long line of salt spilled to the floor, pushed away from the window by the curtains, by the swiftness with which they were shut.

"The thing about glycerin, Axel," Roxas drawled, coming closer, bringing a sweet, metallic stench with him that had vomit rising in Axel's throat again, "is that it dries."


	6. Put Your Swollen Lips On Mine

**Title:** Put Your Swollen Lips On Mine

**Pairing:** Roxas/Axel

**Rating:** M

**Words:** 650~

**Disclaimer:** Don't own anythiiiing

**Warnings:** Sex, random emotional bits, Roxas being insecure about his sexuality, implied homophobic parents.

**A/N: **Written for conigliomannaro's prompt, _"Axel/Roxas sex scene, not extremely graphic, possibly avoiding the word 'cock'." _Sorry that it's kind of a fail, I doubt I will ever create a sex scene as elegant and lovely and strangely hot as yours are. Title from Metric's _Too Little Too Late_.

**ALSO. I'm making a few changes, and turning this series into a drabble series. I'm still finishing the Alphabet Meme, but I'm going to put prompts that turned into proper one shots into their own stories, and put all of my drabbles here.**

* * *

They stumbled into the room, Roxas pushing Axel away from him to yank the curtains shut, turn the lights down, looking around to make sure they were alone as Axel licked at his neck.

"Get off, asshole, people could see," Roxas said, the crease deep between his eyebrows as Axel spread his arms to the empty room.

"Like who, Rox? We're in your room, your family's across the country, you've shut us in as obsessively as you usually do. Who's here to see? Think your mom cracked and decided to put a camera in your room?" Axel asked, voice harsh, angry at Roxas' parents and his insecurities.

"I wouldn't put it past her," Roxas muttered, turning the lights out completely and leaving them standing in the darkness.

"Safe enough yet?" Axel asked, arms folded over his fingers, searching fingers, reached through the dark and brushed his forearm.

Axel's arms reached out, felt along the darkness until his hands brushed the worn cotton of Roxas' t-shirt, under the soft flannel that billowed around his small figure. Gentle fingers closed around his waist, pulling him close, trying not to spook him and scare him away. Roxas' body was stiff, his kisses close-mouthed, palms flat and rigid against his chest.

"C'mon, Rox, loosen up," Axel murmured against his mouth, stroked hot hands over unyielding shoulders, rolling the plush fabric between his fingers before pushing it from Roxas' shoulders without a complaint. Slowly, Roxas kissed back, molded himself to Axel's chest, arms wrapping around and curling his hands against the small of his back. Axel had to hold back a small, triumphant smile, licking at Roxas' top lip and groaning when Roxas' tongue met his.

They came together desperately in the dark, like they would be caught at any moment, teeth bumping as Roxas pushed Axel back on the bed, crawled up his body, too much tongue and fingers forcing Axel's shirt up around his armpits, unbuttoning jeans that were loose around his own hips. Axel wiggled out of jeans, kicking them off the edge of the bed, Roxas' hands insistent on his skin, pulling at clothing almost violently.

When Roxas slid inside, Axel had to bite the back of his wrist to keep from crying out, fingers scratching at the tanned skin of Roxas' back. Roxas moved slowly, belaying the frenzied action from before, Axel squeezing his eyes shut against the darkness of the room when Roxas hit _that spot, oh, Rox_. The only sounds were the rustling of sheets, the slow softness of skin moving against skin, tiny kisses pressed to cheeks and foreheads and the long, pale column of Axel's neck. Axel heard nothing but his own harsh breath roaring in his ears, his pounding heart, white noise that drowned out everything outside of the sphere of _Roxas_.

He knew that his breath was hitching, that he wasn't catching all of the diminutive moans breaking free from his throat; but he couldn't make himself care, not when small, strong hands carded through his hair and stroked along his collarbones and rubbed at his hipbones before drifting down the thighs framing his hips. Their mouths were close; close enough to kiss, close enough for Axel to feel the moans that Roxas refused to give voice to. Axel whispered his name like an orison, running his hands down Roxas' back, sliding easily in the sweat.

Axel came panting, teeth closing over Roxas' shoulder in an effort to keep quite, limbs shaking and nails biting into his waist. Roxas swore, breathing out Axel's name and hilting deep, arms failing to hold him up and dropping him against Axel's heaving chest. Axel wrapped his arms around him, burying his face into blond hair, Roxas breathing hard against his was dark, but Axel imagined he could see blue eyes flashing with emotion, face turning soft with it, and it was enough.


	7. Sweet Leaf, Gimme A New Belief

**Title: **Sweet Leaf; Gimme A New Belief

**Characters: **Axel, Demyx, mentions of Naminé and Roxas.

**Rating: **M

**Words: **1,300~

**Disclaimer: **I don't own: any of the characters, Black Sabbath, Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle, Up In Smoke, Easy Rider, or Super Troopers.

**Warnings: **Pot heads, quotes from stoner movies, mentions of gayness and implied AkuRoku, potty mouths.

**A/N: **Written for a Wishathon on dA for GuidingChaos, because she has awesome prompts that make me flail around like a lunatic.

* * *

"Dude, like, d'you think it would taste good if I put spaghetti on this pizza?" Demyx asked, voice rough from bong hits and his forehead pressed against the glass of the oven, watching the cheese slowly melt.

"Uh, hey Demyx? D'you think schnozz-berries taste like schnozz-berries? No," Axel said, voice mildly annoyed but mostly ignoring him. "Or, uh. Wait, they probably do, but spaghetti on pizza? No. No, that would taste like shit. Remember that one time you put chocolate sauce in your KD? And then you puked on your mom's cat? No. Let's not go back there." Demyx just pressed his face closer to the oven, nose pressing back and mouth distorting on the glass.

"Dem, you're gonna burn your face on that. Again."

"Shut up and take a couple hits, you're so serious right now." Axel fiddled with the bong in his lap, sat on the floor in front of an ounce of grass and a half full grinder. He pulled the bowl, squinting at it and rolling his eyes.

"Dem, when was the last time you changed the water in this thing?" Axel asked, replacing the bowl and heating up the resin that nearly clogged the spout.

"Um, like, three days ago?"

"Get me one of your sister's hair pins," Axel muttered, working on cleaning out the bowl.

"A...hair pin, Axel? Are you coming out to me? Are you gonna get me to do your make up and put on a slinky pink dress and high heels and get me to waltz around the room with you?" Demyx tore himself away from watching the pizza, dancing with an invisible person, dipping them so low he almost lost his balance and fell headfirst into the kitchen table, laughing hysterically to himself.

"Fuck you, Dem, I need to get the resin out of this. And besides, pink totally clashes with my hair," Axel said before heating up the resin again and wrapping his mouth around the top and inhaling hard, trying to soften it faster.

Demyx giggled, wandering through the apartment he shared with his sister and grabbing a bobby pin from the vanity in the bathroom. He threw it at Axel, who managed to catch it despite the terrible throw, and pulled the plastic ends off with his teeth. He got underneath the resin, started peeling it off, rolling it into a sticky ball between his thumb and forefinger.

"I have more for your resin ball!" Axel called, holding his left arm up with the black clump on his finger and attempting to pack the bowl one handed. Demyx, who was already back watching the pizza, sprung up again and almost fell over in his excitement, breathlessly laughing while he snagged the resin from Axel's finger and bounced away. He crashed into his room, opening a massive tupperware container and dropping the ball in, promising himself he'd heat everything up and roll the little pieces into the tacky clump about the size of a baseball.

"Why are we using this shitty grinder, Dem? Where'd the coffee grinder go?" Axel asked, breaking up buds with his fingers before putting them back in the grinder and twisting it almost violently.

"Nam took it, she says she wants to use it for actual coffee," Demyx answered, sitting in front of Axel and watching him repack the bowl with slightly finer weed.

"Fucking college students, minds are always on coffee," Axel murmured, lighting the bowl and taking the first long hoot.

"Ax, you're a college student._ I'm_ a college student. Don't be bad talking us. Also, the coffee grinder made it way too fine, I was always dumping weed out in the water because it would slide through." Demyx was rambling, taking the bong after Axel's three pulls and relighting the bowl. Axel laughed, raspy and low, smirk spreading out across his face.

"Speaking of college students, your sister ever gonna bring that little blond back here again?" Axel asked, eyes glittering with something predatory. Demyx slowly let the smoke out of his lungs before replying.

"Who, Rox-ass? You got a boy crush on him? You a bit of a faygele, Ax?" Demyx asked, teasing and passing the bong back. Axel started repacking the bowl, grinning sharply and fingers twitching when he burnt himself on the heated glass.

"You know how I feel about blonds," he muttered, still grinning, getting up and grabbing the ice tray out of the freezer.

"Yeah, yeah, you sexual predator, we all know about it," Demyx drawled, leaning back and watching Axel pop a few ice cubes out and drop them down the neck of the bong. "Needing a little filtering? Too strong for you, Ax? It is pretty fresh."

"Shut up, Dem," Axel shot before taking another hit, starting to relax.

"Y'know, it's okay. It's pretty hard stuff. Mostly Maui Waui, but it's got some Labrador, too." Demyx was giggling, looking at Axel expectantly.

"You mean we're smokin' dog shit, man?" Axel asked, eyebrow cocked, and they burst into laughter. Demyx was still laughing as Axel chuckled into the bong, sucking down the smoke and sighing it out a moment later."Hey, Dem, don't forget the pizza. I'm gonna start getting hungry soon," Axel said, lounging on the floor, legs out and back pressed against the sofa. Demyx scrambled to his feet, panic in his eyes, hitting his hip against the table hard and yelping, but not stopping on his mission to make sure the pizza wasn't burnt.

"You're stoned out of your mind, man," Axel called, hearing Demyx laugh.

"I was watching that object, that satellite what we saw the other night, and it was flying across the sky, and then it just changed direction and whizzed right off, man!" Axel snorted into the bong and started coughing immediately, making Demyx cackle loudly in the kitchen. He wandered back into the room with a plate full of pizza as Axel's fit of coughing turned into laughter.

"Hey, didn't get me any?" He asked, a false look of offense on his face.

"I'm not your mom, man, get your own."

"Aw, come on, dude."

"Daddy is not coming on anything!" Demyx shrieked in his best, though still horrible, Indian accent. Axel snorted and started laughing again, while Demyx grinned and took a massive bite of pizza.

"Ow, ow, fuck, it burns!" He shouted, voice muffled from his mouth full, while Axel just laughed harder, bong cradled in his hands as he tried to stay upright. After Demyx had his burnt mouth under control, the two of them alternated bites of pizza with bong hits, pouring out the water when the ice melted and refilling it and trying to hold the smoke in their lungs until, when they exhaled, no more than a tiny puff came out. They lounged on the floor, stretched out and lazy and high as helium-filled balloons when the strings were let go by sticky hands.

"Nam should be getting back soon," Demyx mumbled around a bite of long cold pizza, laying on his back with his head pillowed on his arm.

"Mm, maybe she'll bring the cute little blondie with her," Axel murmured, stretching his legs out and setting the bong on a window ledge that he deemed safe.

"Yeah? You would, little perv," Demyx mumbled, blood vessels making his eyes look so much brighter.

"Hey, Dem, you're blond, too," Axel uttered, turning towards him, arm pillowed on his arm, bent at the elbow. Axel's eyes were hooded, the corners of his mouth quirked up, and Demyx couldn't quite tell if he was being serious or not.

Before he could ask, Naminé bustled in, dropping her scarf and book bag and coat across the kitchen while asking how much weed they had left and opening the small window in the kitchen.

"I'll tell Roxas to bring over Chinese, if you'll share with us," she said, plopping down on the couch and grabbing the bong from the ledge. Demyx nodded furiously, looked at Axel, who's expression was excited and blissed out and a little bit predatory.

Demyx rolled his eyes and took the newly packed bong, taking another hit.


	8. Been Hallucinatin' You, Babe

**Title:** Been Hallucinatin' You, Babe

**Pairing:** Axel x Roxas

**Rating:** T

**Words:** 1000~

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Axel, Roxas, or an air conditioner, because where I come from the basement is always cool enough to counter the summer heat.

**Warnings:** Language, boys in boxers, mentions of a homosexual relationship, Roxas being a sassy, irritable bitch due to intensive summer heat.

**A/N:** There's really not much to say here. Other than I typically like Demyx, but making him the idiot roommate that everyone hates was clearly the easiest way to get Roxas off the floor in the bathroom and into Axel's bedroom. Oh ho ho, that plot device. Written for a contest on dA, just a quick little drabble. Title from 'Summer in the City' By Regina Spektor.

Also, sorry for all of this fuckery. ffnet likes to fuck up the formating and I, like the fuck mook I am, didn't check to make sure before I posted them the first time.

* * *

The sun beat down, baking the pavement and causing the air to move, shimmering and pulsing in the distance. The heat was unbearable, it got under your skin until you were nothing but dried out meat suit, a hide stretched out and left to cure in the heat.

"I'm going to start decomposing," Roxas said from the floor, shirt off and thinking about wiggling out of his boxers to take advantage of the momentary respite the bathroom tiles gave before heating up from the temperature of his skin.

"Can you decompose in heat like this? Or do you mummify?" Axel asked, spread eagle in the hardwood flooring, on his stomach with his cheek pressed to the slowly heating floor.

"If the air conditioning doesn't get fixed soon, the repair man is going to get here and be accosted by decomposing, mummified bodies strewn about your apartment," Roxas mumbled, monotone because it was too much effort to put a little inflection into his voice.

"Maybe it'll rain," Axel replied, raising his head and looking out the window to see clear, painfully blue skies.

"It'll probably rain boiling water," Roxas grumbled, moving over to get out of his body-warmed spot of tiling.

"Hey, now, none of that cynicism. We could always take another cold bath," Axel said, flopping back down on the floor. Roxas lifted his head, looking down his body to see Axel's head and shoulders on the floor by the doorway.

"Can we have ice cream, too?" Roxas asked, voice sounding hopeful.

"Sure, Rox, we can have anything you want." Axel's words were punctuated by a slamming door, the giggles of his far-too-peppy roommate, who Roxas couldn't deal with even when the temperature wasn't up there with the Sahara desert at high noon and the innermost pit of Hell.

"Fuck this," Roxas said, standing on shaky legs and stepping over Axel, letting the red head take a peek up his shorts before he promptly shut himself in Axel's room. Axel slowly stood up, rearranged his sweaty boxers, and walked to his room, closing the door before Demyx saw him and he really started regretting not immediately following the prickly little blond.

Said prickly little blond who was currently lying on Axel's bed and moaning in discomfort.

"It is so hot that it hurts," Roxas complained, while Axel rolled his eyes and propped himself up against a wall, easily four full degrees cooler than the bed, even without Roxas on it. Three fans were blowing at full blast, but that just meant the hot air was moving. The heat was something living, something consuming and violent and - just who was that Demyx was talking to?

Axel listened from the crack under his door, splayed out on the floor like a loon with his lanky arms and legs akimbo, trying to hear past Roxas' incessant grumbling and whining.

"I mean, what good is summer if you literally can't move the entire time because it's too hot? I'm pretty sure I've sweated out all of the water I've drank for the past two days. At least the sun is starting to set now," Roxas said, squinting out the window at the sun, hanging low in the sky, but not enough to reduce the heat at all.

"How about this, Rox. How about when the sun starts to set, I'll risk life and sanity to go get us some ice cream from the kitchen, and we'll watch the sun set like the sappy couple that we are," Axel said, crawling towards the bed only to be held back by an angry glare.

"I am not sappy, you neanderthal. There is nothing wrong with watching the sun set," Roxas ground out, moving his hand away quickly when Axel reached out to grab it.

"Oh, c'mon, Rox, you know I didn't mean to offend you, just calm down and holding my fucking hand."

"No! Only _sappy couples_ hold hands, and besides, it's way too hot to be holding hands, it's just gonna get sweaty and unpleasant and in the end we both lose." Axel, spurned on by a mysterious energy that he didn't know he had in him, jumped up, running his hands over sweat damp skin and laughing low in his throat and trying to grab Roxas' wildly flailing arms when a strange, grating noise and then sweet relief stopped them dead.

"The-the air conditioner," Axel mumbled after a moment of dead silence, cracked by Demyx's inane giggling and triumphant shouting. The kid wasn't too hard to deal with, and was sometimes pretty cool, but not with this kind of temperature.

"Where is the repair man, I'm going to go kiss him," Roxas said, moving to get out of bed before Axel grabbed him around the hips and pulled him down into his lap, back against his chest.

"Mm, no you don't, you won't even hold my hand! Kissing random strangers is so far off the map," Axel murmured in his ear, hands skating across the blond's chest and holding him close.

"Axel, for fuck's sake, this is too much. I realize that the air condition has come on, but it's _just_ come on, and it's still a mite too hot to be all clingy with one another," Roxas said, trying to worm his way out of Axel's tight embrace.

"No, Rox, please stay," Axel said, forehead against the nape of Roxas' neck, and the blond stopped moving.

"Okay," he whispered, one set of fingers threading through Axel's. It was just as hot and sweaty as they thought it was going to be, but Axel licked the sweat from the back of his neck like he was Roxas' sated mate, and Roxas stroked a leanly muscled forearm.

They moved to the bed to watch the sun set, Axel holding Roxas still in his arms, and neither one of them wanted to leave, not even for ice cream.


	9. My Whole Existence is Flawed

**Title:** My Whole Existence is Flawed

**Pairing: **Axel/Roxas

**Rating:** M

**Words:** 2,700~

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything you see here. Nothing. Nada.

**A/N: **Written for zenelly's 21st birthday, for her prompt _AkuRoku lap dancing_. Sorry I kind of wrecked it, but I honestly don't think Roxas would ever, _ever_ writhe around in Axel's lap. Not unless he was drunk as fuck or if he was honor bound by some sort of bet, and then it wouldn't have ended in sex XD Axel, though, is a whole 'nother story. So, happy happy birthday and I hope you enjoy both your birthday AND this *hearts*

Title from Nine Inch Nail's _Closer_, which I imagine is the first song that Axel turns on.

* * *

"Oh, fuck no." It wasn't the response Axel had wanted, but he'd work with it.

"C'mon, Rox, it's not like I'm asking_ you_ to parade around in ladies underwear and grind in my lap," Axel said, standing and following him to the kitchen. _However, it would be nice..._

"Stop it, Axel. You look like a rainbow clad faggot, take that shit _off_," Roxas growled, standing on tip-toe to reach the Jack Daniels in the cupboard above the stove.

"Now, Roxas, I'm quite sure we're comfortable enough in our sexuality that I can stand in our kitchen in women's lingerie," Axel said, pulling at the lacy panties that did very little to cover his crotch.

"I'm not fucking joking, Axel, take that fucking shit off." Axel smirked, raising a brow.

"If that's what you want," he sang, slowly untying the baby doll, dragging fingers down his torso and smirking, looking at Roxas from under eyelashes dark with mascara. He pressed his nearly naked body closer to Roxas' and was met with a harsh, flat palm to the center of his chest, pushing him away.

"Go the fuck away and take that bullshit off, Axel, you're not a goddamn woman." Roxas voice was dangerously low, and in a far away corner of his mind Axel knew that he was close to snapping, but his flaring anger didn't care. Roxas took a long gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle before grabbing a cocktail glass from the cupboard, filling it nearly to the top and throwing it back. He let it burn down his throat to his stomach, filled the glass up again, turned to see Axel, still half naked, still decked out in black lace, standing with his hands on his hips and fury blazing in green eyes.

"Oh, I didn't realize you would mistake me for female so easily. Here I am, trying to do something _nice_ for you-" Axel was cut off by a loud bang, the sound of glass shattering. He was startled into silence.

"Listen, Axel, if you want me to go out and fuck chicks, just fucking _tell_ me," Roxas snarled, pulling a worn, flannel button down over his t-shirt and stalking to the door. A moment later, Axel heard the door slam looked over to where Roxas had heaved his glass, looked at the dented drywall, the scuffed paint, amber liquid dripping down the wall and splattered across the floor and ceiling. Tiny fragments of glass shone on the linoleum, the hard wood of the hallway.

He felt his rage building up inside his stomach, felt the stomach acid roil and bubble, rising up in his throat; he felt his jaw tighten until it hurt, felt his hands clench until his nails were digging into his palms, felt frustration build up in the form of tears but _I won't cry, fucking won't, not over his pissy little fucking tantrum._

So Axel swallowed his tears of anger, of frustration, and stepped lightly over the shattered mess of whiskey and glass glinting like lost diamonds, and went to their room, shutting the door tight behind him.

Hours later, Axel woke up to a small, tense body curling around him, cold feet tucked against his calves and nose pressed into the hollow of his collarbone.

"'M sorry," Roxas whispered when he noticed Axel's open eyes. "Sorry, baby, I don't-I didn't mean to blow up like that, Ax, I'm sorry." Axel was stiff in Roxas' arms, glaring down at blond hair and grinding his teeth in fury that slowly flooded through his sleep-addled brain.

"I, uh, I cleaned everything up. I think I got all of the glass, but I'll make sure tomorrow. And I'll fix the wall tomorrow, too, before I go to work." Roxas' hold on Axel tightened just slightly, and Axel could feel his limbs shaking from the cold, but he didn't move to warm him, or comfort him.

"Do-do you want me to go somewhere else?" Roxas asked, voice small and pained, and Axel bit his bottom lip in thought before shifting, pressing a thigh between Roxas' and wrapping his arms around the shivering blond.

"No. Fucker." Axel's voice was quiet, cold, not joking and sarcastic and amused like it would normally be.

"I'm upset with you, asshole, but you're sorry and you're cold and I don't want you to perish of hypothermia before you have a chance to make it up to me." And that was that.

They woke up curled around each other in the morning, and Axel flicked Roxas' nose in annoyance when he leaned in for a kiss, getting out of the bed and heading for the shower. Roxas painstakingly filled the dent in the wall, carefully repainting it with thin layers as he cooked a greasy breakfast in silent apology.

Axel walked into the kitchen in his pressed suit and tie, and Roxas was pretty sure he'd picked his clothing out just to make Roxas groan. The dark charcoal of the suit emphasized his pretty, pale skin, tie making green eyes pop, cut perfectly to his long, angular body. Roxas swallowed raised a short eyebrow before sitting down and practically inhaling his food, grabbing bacon and toast from Roxas' plate when he'd finished his own. Roxas felt guilt chewing at the edge of his stomach, because he _knew_ Axel wouldn't have eaten last night, would have waited for him to get home to his surprise and eat together; once Roxas had stormed out like a child, he would have went straight to bed.

Roxas caught him by the door as he was sliding polished black shoes onto his feet, sliding his fingers into the hair at the back of his head and gently kissing the smooth skin of his neck.

"I'm sorry," Roxas murmured, lapping at his skin and kissing across the wet smears. "Have a good day at work." Axel pressed his mouth against Roxas' temple - not quite a kiss, not yet, but letting Roxas know he was on the right track.

Weeks of tiny favors and taking the trash out and cooking breakfast and the odd night of careful, slow sex and Roxas had finally, _finally_ been forgiven. He'd nearly fallen to his knees and screamed his thanks to the heavens, but Axel would have smacked him upside the head and, really, he'd _just_ been forgiven. Now hopefully Axel wouldn't notice the suspicious absence of some lacy, badly fitting lingerie.

And now, after nearly a month of groveling and near celibacy, Roxas could finally take advantage of the fact that Axel had taken to sitting around in his underwear. Roxas was pretty sure that he'd started it just to wind him up, but it had stuck, as if Axel had just then realized that sitting around in his shorts was way more comfortable than slacks and an undershirt.

One night after dinner, Roxas still smelling like grease from the mechanic shop and nursing a burn from an overheated engine, Axel stepped out of their bedroom after fully shucking his outfit. He was lazing around in plain, black boxer briefs, but _god_ he looked good like that, all sharp hipbones and long, lean torso blooming into wide shoulders, and that _ass_, Roxas wanted to get his hands on it.

Axel was strangely mobile after a full day at the office, and he walked back and forth from the living room to the kitchen to the bedroom and back, with Roxas' eyes following him every step of the way. Finally, when Axel lifted his arms and stretched, body open and defenseless and that fucking line of red hair glinting in the low light, Roxas violently jabbed the power button on the remote. He shoved himself off the couch, hands pressed against pale skin and pulling him closer.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," Roxas murmured against his chest, licking at his collarbone and grinding forward, pressing rough denim against the soft cotton of his underwear, pale thighs covered in sparse, ginger hairs.

Axel, for all his usual perceptiveness, balked.

"Nuh uh. There is no way that you storm out of the house in a fit when I wear something nice, and then practically jump me when I'm in my skivvies." His only answer was the low groans erupting from the back of Roxas' throat, the flat palms stroking down his sides and back, the fingers slipping beneath the elastic waistband and tugging lightly. Axel rolled his eyes, grinning, pushing Roxas back on the couch and holding him there with a foot to his chest.

"Alright then, weirdo. I'll play. If you touch me, even once, before I give the word, you don't get to have me tonight," Axel said, arms crossed over his broad chest and raising an eyebrow in a very obvious do-I-make-myself-clear gesture. Roxas chewed on his bottom lip, nodding hard and fisting his hands at his sides.

A few half-assed, aborted tries later, and Axel was dragging a kitchen chair into the room, shoving Roxas into it and pretending that what he was trying to do wasn't totally and completely obvious as he fiddled with the stereo system until mindless electronic music was filtering through the speakers.

Axel looked at Roxas predatorily, watching his throat convulse as he swallowed hard, arms stiff at his sides with the effort of not reaching out and Axel hadn't even _started_, the poor boy.

Axel circled the chair, running a light hand up the inseam of Roxas' jeans, fingers sliding over his crotch and up his chest as Axel draped himself over the blond from behind.

"Ready?" Axel asked, breathing heavily in his ear, and Roxas nodded fiercely. Axel trailed a finger across his shoulders as he moved around him again, felt the goosebumps on his skin when he reached the end of the fabric, watched his lidded, blue eyes flicker up and down his body. Axel twisted his hips and shoulders, slowly gyrating to the heavy bass, fingers flitting up his own thighs, tweaking his nipples and dipping into his belly button and running over the coarse red hair on his stomach.

Roxas _whimpered._

Axel forced a leg between Roxas', straddling one of his thighs and smirk widening when he saw Roxas' hands move to the chair, gripping for dear life as he stared, pretty pink lips open and breath coming in pants. Axel sped up with the music, writhing not a foot from Roxas' face, dipping down to brush his crotch against Roxas' tense thigh. He could see that Roxas was hard, could see the outline of him straining against his jeans, but he ignored it.

Instead, he pulled back, turning around and bracing both legs on either side of the chair, backing up and moving so that his ass was scant inches from Roxas' crotch. He started moving, not touching him, not yet, and he could hear Roxas' breathing pick up, could nearly feel it whispering against the small of his back as he worked his hips.

Axel's arms went up, bending at the elbow and digging into red spikes, one hand sliding down the back of his neck and around to his chest and Roxas' breath hitched, Axel's smirk nearly splitting his face.

Finally, Axel pressed down into Roxas' lap, and Roxas hissed and jerked his arms as Axel's ass gyrated against his crotch, fighting not to lose control and just grab him. After a moment, once Axel was certain that Roxas had all but drooled into the curve of the small of his back, Axel moved away, turned, straddled him face to face and sat down. Roxas' arms were in the way of his mile long legs, so Axel pulled at his wrists, set small, hot hands on the sides of his thighs.

"That's where they stay," Axel warned, voice barely audible over the heavy dub step the song had switched to, but Roxas nodded, tracing out Axel's muscles with eyes bright with lust. When Axel started moving, the hands on his legs clamped down; Axel smirked down at the blond, bit his bottom lip and Roxas bucked his hips, fingers squeezing his thighs, breath shaking and Axel could feel him twitching through his jeans.

Roxas' eyes fell to Axel's crotch, could see the firm outline of him through the black fabric, pressed up against his thigh from the constriction of his underwear. Roxas licked his lips, biting his cheek to stop himself from moving, from sliding his hands up strong thighs and gripping those fucking hips and pulling him closer, grinding up into him.

Axel brushed a piece of hair from Roxas' eyes, giving a particularly vicious twist of his hips that had Roxas moaning out loud, jeans tight tight tight and it almost hurt, but it was so good, it was-

"Such a good boy," Axel murmured against his ear, breath hot, and Roxas' entire frame shuddered. "Do you wanna touch me, baby?" Roxas nodded, pressing his cheek to Axel's trying to feel him just a little bit more. Axel bit Roxas' bottom lip, licking along the pink curve, shallowly dipping his tongue past Roxas' lips.

"So touch me." Within seconds, Axel was a mass of long limbs gripped in Roxas' hands, lifted by strong arms and pressed down into the couch, a hot mouth insistent on his neck and hands running across his body like they didn't know what they wanted to touch first. Axel arched up into him, wrapped his legs around Roxas' hips and tugged at his t-shirt.

"Fuck, get-get your clothes off," Axel whispered between sloppy, forceful kisses, and Roxas was tugging him up, to his feet, biting harshly at his collarbone and stumbling backwards, pulling Axel toward their bedroom. Roxas was foundering from his unbuttoned jeans, slipping down around his thighs, and when he stopped to kick them off, he turned the stereo off. The silence would have been deafening if he hadn't collided with Axel, licking into him desperately, harsh breathing and blood pounding and sliding a hand into Axel's shorts, Axel letting out a stilted cry.

"Fuck me," Roxas growled into his neck, squeezing Axel, whose hips twitched and suddenly he was pushing, pushing Roxas into their room and fumbling for the lube and a condom and Roxas was on the bed, naked, underwear flung somewhere across the room and touching himself, stroking himself with a tight, fast fist.

Axel forced Roxas' legs open, slapped his hands away and there was cool lube on his fingers and he was pressing them inside roughly, biting Roxas' stomach and listening to his stuttering cries, hips pressing down into his hand and fingers tight in Axel's hair. Axel prepped him fast, fingers rubbing into his prostate and making him arch, making him beg_ please please please, Axel, now, need you now_ until Axel was rolling the condom down, slicking himself with lube and pressing inside, slow as possible but, fuck, it was hard, with Roxas moaning and rolling his hips and his fingers digging into his skin.

They fucked like animals, all desperate cries and clawing hands and fast, jerking thrusts. Roxas was moaning into Axel's neck, biting down on his shoulders and collarbones hard enough that Axel knew he'd be wearing high necked shirts for the rest of the week but, fuck, it was good, he didn't care.

Roxas came hard, curling around Axel's body and wrapping his arms around Axel's shoulders, hands in his hair and cradling his head and letting Axel pull the pleasure out of him with gentle hands and cruel thrusts. When Axel came, panting and groaning, he had barely enough energy to tie the condom and toss it into the garbage can, a lucky shot that he thanked every living deity for as he curled into Roxas' sweaty, warm neck and fell into a prompt and full sleep.

The next day, Roxas was the one waking up after the alarm and showering as Axel made him breakfast, kissed him goodbye at the door, and that night when Axel had shed his clothing like always, his new ritual, the red head just smirked and bit his bottom lip and slowly sashayed into their bedroom.

Needless to say, Roxas followed.


End file.
